Count Drac-Man
by Amaxe
Summary: The one where the Avengers think Spider-Man is a psychopathic serial killer, and Peter thinks they are after his identity. Insanity ensues. Reveal.
1. How it all Started

**I shamelessly beg for comments/reviews.**

 **Here's a little sort-of-comedy to cheer ya'll up after…. ehm.**

 **So, basically, the whole idea started from how easy it is to be misunderstood. I'm sure we've all felt that way at some time or another. But no one in superhero history has it worse than Spidey. The mask, and the fact that no one knows anything about him, certainly doesn't help.**

 **So I thought, what if the Avengers get the absolute worst idea about Spider-Man? Just how off from the truth can the misunderstandings go? Pretty far, it turns out. The story wound up making me want to pull out my hair and laugh at the same time.**

 **This is more on the comic compliant side, though you don't have to have read the comics to understand.**

 **This'll be a 2 or 3 shot fic, depending on the reaction.**

* * *

In retrospect, hitting Ironman in the head with a metal rod wasn't one of Spider-Man's best ideas. Contrary to the billionaire's press name, the suit was certainly _not_ made of iron, and could easily take on heavy artillery. So a torn off aluminum chair leg was laughable really.

But the infamous wallcrawler hardly had the chance to ponder his life decisions as he found himself on the unfortunate end of a city-wide manhunt for yours truly. He hadn't a clue why, and wasn't given much of a chance to ask.

He was already in a bad mood as it was. He'd been too late to stop a murder. At around three in the morning, Peter's slightly enhanced senses picked up the unmistakable scent of blood. The fresh trail led him to a dark alley where he found the body of a young woman.

What the young man would give if he could find who was responsible for this. Enhanced senses or not, Peter was not bitten by a radioactive bloodhound. It wasn't the first time he found himself wishing he were, and he doubted it'd be the last. He found her phone, left in the untouched purse that had fallen a dozen feet from her, and called the police.

It was as he was swinging back to his modest apartment, beating himself up over being too late to save another life, that his sixth sense rattled lightly in the back of his skull. Experience told him that he was being followed. He didn't hesitate to pick up his pace before taking a sharp turn and melting into the shadows on the brick wall of an old coffee shop, a small hope that it was the mystery murderer weighing on his mind.

Pete's never that lucky.

The figure that followed Peter's original path, dashing from rooftop to rooftop, was far enough that Peter couldn't make out much more than a silhouette. Peter would have been clueless as to just who this decidedly _man_ was if it weren't for the familiar shape strapped to his back.

The nerd in Peter immediately imagined in the colors he knew were there. Good old Captain America with his mighty shield. Spider-Man rubbed at the back of his mask and almost laughed with relief. It's just a friend.

Granted, he and Cap hadn't really interacted much outside of a few mutual team ups to help take down a rogue robot or something similar. But they're all superheroes, right?! There's no need for bonding time! They all just kind of _get_ each other.

Pete crawled forward lazily, words to tease Cap for chasing a spider on the tip of his tongue, when the man in question slid to a stop on a nearby roof and rose a hand to his earpiece. "You got a location, Stark? I lost him."

Peter paused, thinking this'll be good. He could just barely make out the answer despite the sluggish traffic below at this late hour. "Hold on a sec, I'm too far to get a clear reading. You sure lost him fast. What's the point in all those morning runs if you can't make a proper chase?"

Steve huffed. "Spider-Man swings on webs, Stark. I'd like to see _you_ tail him out of the suit."

"Excuses, excuses… hold on… shit, he's 30 yards away! Check your 3 o'clock!"

Captain America bodily swerved to face Peter, who instinctively cringed as his spider sense picked up again. Something wasn't right. Cap raised his hands to cup his mouth. "Spider-Man!"

Peter warily stayed right where he was. He tried to keep the tension out of his voice as he shouted back. "Hey Cap! What's up?"

Cap hesitated as though he was surprised that the webslinger answered. Why did Cap look nervous? "I need to talk to you! Could you come over here?"

Spider-Man had far too many close calls to learn that his spider sense was extremely reliable. Captain may be a friend, but Spidey knew better than to ignore his instincts. He could hear Ironman's propulsors steadily grow closer. "Could I put a raincheck on that? I have work in the morning, and I was actually heading back home." Why oh why did he think signing up for physics 2 at seven in the morning was a good idea?

Ironman made his appearance then, having settled for hovering a dozen feet to the side of his teammate. Peter could swear that the man's metallic voice bounced off the walls. "This can't wait, web-head. We need you to come to the tower. Now."

If Peter didn't have a spider sense, he would have done just that because he trusted the Avengers. But it was slowly picking up in intensity and all Peter could do was back away. Something was _very_ wrong. He was about to apologize and excuse himself when the low ringing in his head grew triple fold. Pete just barely rolled out of the way of the tranq arrow which imbedded itself in the wall right where he clung moments before.

* * *

 _Earlier_

* * *

Clint rubbed his eyes in disbelief. "Run that by me again."

Tony scowled at the archer. "Jarvis, loop the audio."

The hidden speakers within the main living room blared Tony's voice, repeating what he said moments before, causing all present Avenger members to flinch.

"The police are finding blood drained bodies all over the city… The police are finding blood drained bodies all over the city… The police are finding blood drained bodies all over the city… The police are f-"

Clint cried, "Ok! I got it!"

Jarvis immediately stopped the recording. "My apologies, sir."

Steve stood from his previous position on the couch. "How many bodies? Are we looking at a gang or one serial killer?"

Tony opted to sit down. "Six casualties so far."

Bruce sighed. "That many in one night? It has to be a gang."

Tony glared at the plush carpet below him. "Apparently it's been going on for weeks. They've been hiding it to avoid a mass panic. I only just got the call from the FBI a few minutes ago because apparently they only _just_ now realized that they were out of their depth."

Natasha tilted her head. "So we're looking at an individual."

"Most likely."

"What else do we know?"

Tony rubbed his chin slowly. "There were puncture marks on the neck of the victims, like a bite, and every scene had claw marks on the walls."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "Claw marks? That doesn't sound like a human being was responsible."

"It wouldn't, the marks were even on brick walls. The only problem is that the teeth marks match up with a human."

Steve folded his arms. "So we're dealing with an enhanced. Someone strong who…" he shivered. "drinks blood…"

Tony nodded, gesturing to the empty space in front of them. "Jarvis, display the images."

Holographic displays of the crime scenes immediately filled the space in front of them.

Clint sucked in a breath before jumping to his feet and pointing to one of the pictures. It was a brick wall with long gashes along the side. "Doesn't this look weird to you?" Clint gestured, arms waving frantically.

The soldier's eyebrows furrowed. "Whoever did this was very strong. Those are deep."

Clint groaned. "No! No, this-" he pointed to one of the higher gashes. "This has to be at least ten feet off the ground."

"If I may," Jarvis cut in. "Knowing the size of a brick, I can estimate that the mark Mr. Barton has pointed out is just over twelve feet off the ground."

"Thank you! Jarvis…" Clint huffed.

Nat raised an amused brow. "That would be a very tall person."

"Or," Clint said, closing the image. "It could be someone who _walks on walls_."

Utter silence filled the room.

Steve shifted to one foot uncomfortably. "You… You aren't suggesting that-"

Clint held firm. "Do you have any better ideas? Spider-Man is literally part spider. And he admit that he's still learning things about his abilities. Who's to say he didn't evolve a little bit more? Drinking blood is something spiders do, right?"

Bruce coughed. "Well, they also wrap their prey in webs and none of the victims-"

"Spidey's webs dissolve in an hour, remember? What if-"

"You couldn't seriously be suggesting-"

"Spidey's been fighting crime since-"

"Alright, that's enough!" Stark shouted, causing the others to break off mid-sentence. "I don't like that idea any more than the rest of you, but it's all we have and it's at least worth looking into. We'll ask him directly if he shows up tonight. Alright?"

* * *

Jarvis woke the team up at 2:37 in the morning, stating that his scanners picked up the infamous webhead streaking past the tower.

Five minutes later, anyone who had a chance of catching up to the man was high-tailing it in full suit attire. They split off in different directions, fully well knowing they were on a wild goose chase but not having much of a choice.

Steve spotted him first, sprinting after him at the highest speed the soldier dared while jumping from roof to roof. Steve thought he lost Spider-Man, until Tony was close enough for his scanners to find the wallcrawler.

He tried calling out to Spidey, only for the chatterbox to act uncharacteristically shy. After Ironman caught up to them and asked Spidey to show himself only for Spidey to stay in the shadows, Steve knew something was off.

That was when Widow, the furthest behind, spoke into the headset. Even with his slightly enhanced senses, Steve could barely make out the words with Ironman hovering next to him.

"Shit. Guys, I followed Spider-Man's path. There's another body here."

Clint cursed, and before anyone could stop him, he let an arrow fly.

* * *

Shocked by the abrupt betrayal of the Avengers, Spider-Man dodged an arrow that had been headed for his arm and booked it in the opposite direction.

Spidey did everything he could to escape in his shock. He's always been far nimbler than the others, but Ironman will always be faster. No matter how many zigzags and loops around skyscrapers Spider-Man takes, Ironman's speed and sensors kept the billionaire practically on top of the webslinger.

Spider-Man's confusion certainly wasn't helping him think through means of escape. There was only one word that kept rattling through his skull.

Why?

Why are they doing this? They've been working together for years. Why now? What changed?

After a solid five minutes of weaving between buildings without shaking his tail, he decided to ask. He swung behind a billboard and waited until Ironman was within reach before flinging himself at the man's back. He clung for dear life when Tony actually _shrieked_ in surprise and shot off in uncoordinated tight circles.

Why would Tony act this way? Spider-Man hitched a ride on the multimillion dollar suit many times before. It was as though Tony just found out that the web slinger was the boogieman.

Pete yelped when they grazed the corner of a McDonalds. He shouted above the wind. "Why are you doing this!? I thought we were friends!"

Ironman slowed to a halt, 20 yards above the nearest building. Pete could hear Tony panting heavily inside the suit.

Stark cleared his throat. "You've been keeping some pretty big secrets, webhead. This was only a matter of time."

Pete froze in his precarious position. "You mean…"

"I got the call from the FBI just last night."

Pete felt like his chest was sunken in anguish. "The… The FBI? Would've thought it'd be SHIELD."

"It doesn't matter who told us!" Ironman strained to turn his head toward Spider-Man. "Though I'm sure SHIELD is on top of it too. Your crimes have to be taken care of. NOW. I can't believe you'd keep something like this from us for so long. We could have helped you."

Pete felt like he couldn't breathe. This is it. It's all come down to this. He had no idea Tony wanted to know who he was so badly. Sure, it's technically illegal to run from the police and be a vigilante, but that's kinda unavoidable if he wanted to keep doing the right thing. He thought they'd reached an understanding years ago. They'd help each other out, but the mask stays on. Peter guessed he'd misread Tony's intentions.

His jaw clenched in anticipation.

"I guess this is it then."

"It is."

Nothing has changed. If he has to lose his allies in the Avengers to keep May and his friends safe, then that's exactly what he's going to do. He repositioned his feet before kicking off and dropping to the city below, shoving Ironman a small distance in the process.

Peter forced himself to think objectively. Plan A: run, has failed. Time for plan B.

Spider-Man swung as low as he dared before he found the boarded off office he knew would be there. He only just managed to tear the boards off a window and hop inside before Ironman was within eyesight of the building.

Peter had never tested the limits of Tony's sensors in the Ironman suit, but he knew that heat sensors couldn't see through solid structures. He could only hope this would do the trick. That didn't stop him from tearing off the leg of one of the chairs in the waiting room he found himself in.

He held the mangled piece of metal like a miniature baseball bat, ready for anything.

Well, anything except Ironman flying straight at him by going through the _freaking wall_.

Pete yelped, bounced aside, and swung with all his might. His aim was true. The metal pole hit Ironman in the smack center of his head. Ironman skidded to a stop. His entirely undamaged head turned slowly to look at Spider-Man.

"…Was that a chair leg?"

Spidey glanced down at the aluminum pole in his fist, now comically bent in the shape of Ironman's head.

"Uh… no?"

Stark made a disbelieving noise. "You… You just hit me with a chair leg."

"No I didn't."

"What did you think it'd do?"

"… It was a distraction."

The slight head movement made Pete think Stark had rolled his eyes. "Uh huh, sure. From what, exactly?"

Spidey aimed his webshooters at the man's head. "This!"

He coated Ironman's metal faceplate before sealing his feet to the floor and finished it off by wrapping his arms to his sides.

Tony grunted in frustration as he tried to move. "This isn't going to end, you know. We'll stop you, one way or another. You're only delaying the inevitable."

Peter clenched his fists. So _that's_ how it's going to be, huh? Not only were they trying to take his mask, but also put an end to Spider-Man. Well… fine. He'd faced scarier people trying to do the same.

He tried to convince himself that this didn't change anything. He'd been solo before; he could do it again. But darn it, he didn't _want_ to do it again. It was nice to be able to rely on someone else if he got in a pickle.

Pete cringed at the thought of having to throw away the distress beacon Tony gave him a couple years back.

The things he sacrificed for the people he loves.

Spider-Man dove through the hole Ironman made and took off in a random direction. Only an amateur would head straight back to his apartment after that.

His Spidey sense suddenly blared and Spider-Man jerked to look at where he'd left Ironman only to feel Cap's shield slam into his side. Pete shouted in pain as he was flung into a wall. He tried to move only to feel his side flare up. His knees buckled and he found himself hunched over on the asphalt. That's definitely a broken rib… maybe two.

He groaned as he made to stand and gripped the wall behind him, needing it as support more than he'd like to admit.

The Captain solemnly trudged his way over. "We can't let any more lives be lost because you can't control yourself."

Peter gaped beneath the mask. He isn't perfect, he's more aware of that than anyone. He takes lives he wasn't fast enough to save very personally. The Avengers had been there now and then to assure him that it wasn't his fault. Their assurances had kept him afloat at times. Was it all a lie?

He started to think this was all some crazy nightmare.

Pete thought so much more of Captain America.

He stood as high as he could manage before he bounded up the wall. He ignored the shouting and the severe pains in his side. It was getting hard to breathe.

He dodged another arrow or two as he hurtled himself as far from the Avengers as he was physically capable. He ran and ran, and only when he was starting to think his lung was on the verge of being punctured did he head home.

He'd have to take another sick day, beg the professors for forgiveness.

The wind had never really bothered his eyes before, so why did they sting so much?


	2. Surprise

May knew her nephew would be at school right about now.

That made it the perfect time to visit using the spare key he gave her and prepare him an early surprise dinner. She loves that boy, but he can't cook and he knows it. She knew he'd been working so hard with his degree and taking those pictures for The Bugle. He'd love a home cooked meal.

He'd always been so grateful. Pride welled up in her chest as she set the groceries down to fish for the key at his apartment door. She had the best nephew in the world.

Once the door was unlocked, she grasped her bags once more before heading inside. She smiled when she passed the tiny living room and made it to the kitchen. Peter has always been a funny boy. He'll keep his main areas spotless, even if he doesn't have any roommates, while his bedroom is atrocious. Such is the price of being a genius, she supposed as she plopped her burden on the table.

May just wished her nephew would spend more time using that big brain of his. Her smile slipped slightly as she turned around again to examine the condition of the apartment. She knew everything was clean, but that didn't mean it looked that way.

Stains and holes littered the carpet and walls. Scratches were strewn about the table and counter, as though someone never bothered to buy a cutting board. The lingering smell of mold and mildew stifled the air. Not for the first time, she sighed at the conditions her boy lived in.

Yes, he was smart, but that didn't mean he spent his time wisely. She knew he more than qualified to work at one of those big tech companies, like Oscorp, Stark industries, or even start his own, but he instead insisted that working for that mad man Jameson was perfect for him.

May shook her head in exasperation. She would always support Peter, no matter what he decided to do, but she knew he wasn't happy with where he settled. And if Peter wasn't happy, she certainly wouldn't be.

A flash of red caught her eye. She turned to see a bit of fabric rumpled on the floor just at the cracked open doorway of Peter's bedroom. She frowned. It was odd, Peter never leaves clothes within sight of the main area. She'd never seen this shirt before either. What a strange pattern…

She shuffled forward and grasped the material. Spandex? What on earth…

At that moment, the material hanging from her hand was suddenly so familiar that she froze and simply stared at what was now clearly a costume piece of a Spider-Man suit.

May snorted. Peter was a bigger Spidey fan than she realized, though with all those pictures he takes, she figured she should have known.

She held it up to admire the spider logo in the center. The quality was surprisingly well done; better than those overpriced onesies at the Halloween stores. If she didn't know any better… An image of Peter sewing a suit popped into her mind.

She smirked and shook her head. _Peter sewing_. That'd be the day.

May gave the suit piece a sniff test to decide whether to fold it or put it in her nephew's laundry basket. A strong metallic tang mixed with the salt of sweat assaulted her nose and she stiffened at the memorable scent.

Blood.

There was no question.

She stumbled back and let go with one hand and examined the half dried blood that had smeared onto her fingers. She stared, uncomprehending, as her subconscious began to fill in empty puzzle pieces she hadn't realized were missing.

May shuffled forward as though in a daze as she raised a single trembling hand to open the bedroom door.

The fabric fell from May's hands, hitting the floor with a soft plop.

* * *

Peter hated waking up after a fight.

Sure, the fight itself sucked, but it's always the morning after that's the absolute worst. In the morning after, the adrenaline is gone and it's three times harder to move. Not to mention the ravenous hunger he cannot afford to satisfy. He rolled over, wincing when he agitated his half healed ribs.

It took him a moment to recall exactly _what_ fight it was. But when he did, it felt like a pile of bricks settled in his stomach. The Avengers.

Right.

So that happened.

Peter told himself that if the Avengers had felt that way all along, it was all for the best that their relationship was cut off. He didn't think he was very convincing. He pulled out his pillow from underneath him and moaned into it. It would take him a while to get over this one.

He would have been content to stay in bed and wallow in misery if his stomach didn't decide to grumble _so_ loudly, he wouldn't be surprised if his neighbors heard it through the thin walls. He rolled his eyes and forced himself to stand before he headed for the kitchen on stiff legs.

At first he thought it was a hallucination. May sat at his table, shoulders hunched, pale as a ghost, and perfectly still. A smell confirmed that she must have found his coffee, as she held onto his single half-filled mug like a lifeline.

Peter didn't know what to do. He knew something was horribly wrong. He'd never seen May like this. Not since Ben…

And she hates coffee.

He held still when she seemed to shake herself from her daze and slowly turned her attention to him with haunted eyes.

Peter spoke softly, as though afraid to frighten her. "A-Aunt May? Are you… I mean, is everything ok?"

May broke eye contact to gaze down at the table. "I… No, Peter. No, It's not."

Peter started to circle the table toward his aunt. "Then what-" a flash of red and blue on the table, previously covered by the mound of groceries, caught his eye. "…Aunt May… where did you… I mean, that's-"

May barely reacted. She just looked exhausted. "Don't tell me it's a Halloween costume, Peter. Just… don't."

Peter swallowed nervously, tongue feeling too thick to form words. "No, wait, look, I don't know what you think but I can explain-"

"No, you can't, Peter." May's voice took on a cold tone. "And you don't have to. You don't have to explain and you don't have to lie to me anymore." Her eyes began to water even as she gazed on ahead. "I know your secret. I know you're Spider-Man.

"I saw you lying on the bed hurt that I almost… How could you do this to me, Peter? How could you lie to me all these years?"

Peter's heart raced as he fought to breathe slowly. "Look, Aunt May, I can see you're upset, but there's a reasonable-"

"Peter-"

"-explanation that-"

May stood and looked him dead in the eye. " **Stop it.** Stop _lying_ to me. How could you lie to me for all these years?"

Peter saw the broken look in her eyes and felt himself fall apart inside. He couldn't keep up his façade anymore. Not now. Not with her. He closed his eyes, as though blocking her out would make it any easier. "Because I love you. And I didn't want anything or anyone to hurt you. Especially me."

He eyed her again to see May sag slightly. Most of the fire in her eyes dimmed. "What did you think would happen if I found out, Peter? Did you think I would just keel over and die?"

"Aunt May-"

"When your parents died, I raised you. I carried that burden and it never broke me, though there were times I thought it might.

"When your Uncle Ben died, and most of my world died with him, it would have been easy to just give up, to roll over and die. But you needed me, so I dealt with it and kept going. I have buried loved ones and relatives. I have watched you suffer over your own losses, knowing there was nothing I could do but be there when you needed me.

"If I could bear all that, Peter, do you really think I would fall apart because of all _this_?"

When May began to sit down at the dining table chair again, Peter joined her. He swallowed the knot in his throat down. "I didn't… Aunt May, honest to God, I was just… I was just trying to protect you."

"And I believe you when you say that, Peter, but I also believe you were trying to protect yourself. Because you didn't know what I would think, or what I would say. I might try to stop you, insist that you give this up. If that happened, you'd have to choose between loving me, and doing what you wanted to do. And you didn't want to make that choice. So you avoided it. Avoided me. You've spent all these years keeping me out of what is obviously one of the most important parts of your life."

Peter glared at his folded hands in his lap as he realized just how stupid he'd been. When May put it like that… It's no wonder she was so hurt. "Yeah… Yeah, I did."

May sighed. "The years we've lost, Peter… The years we've lost to a lie."

Peter couldn't look at her when he finally answered. "I know. And it's not… It's not the only thing I've held back from you."

May blinked at Peter. "There's more?" Her voice was carefully neutral.

Peter winced. "Telling you _what_ I was doing also would have meant telling you _why_ I was doing it."

May cocked her head. "Well, yes, that was pretty much my next question."

Peter stood and faced the furthest wall. "I'm doing this because- because I- no."

He whirled to face her again. "I can't."

May scowled at him. "Peter-"

"I just can't, Aunt May, because this- this _would_ kill you."

May took a moment before she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Peter… I'd accept that risk if it meant we could go back to the way things were before all this started. Before the lies. Please."

Peter felt his will crumble under her touch. He silently prayed he wouldn't regret this. "I… God help me, Aunt May… I'm the reason Uncle Ben is dead."

May took her hand back with a small gasp as though she'd been burned. "…God… Peter, What-"

"I was showboating, using my powers to pick up a few bucks. A thief ran past me. They yelled for me to stop him. I didn't. I… I let him go. Because I couldn't be bothered. And he killed Uncle Ben. If I'd stopped him, Ben would be alive right now. But I didn't. And Uncle Ben is dead. Because of me. That's why I do this. I have to make it up to him, Aunt May. I have to. I understand if you hate me for-"

May shook her head. "No… God, no. Peter, you're wrong. All these years… All these years you've been blaming yourself for what happened to Ben."

"Aunt May-"

"But you're not responsible, Peter, you're not… _I am_ ," May hiccupped as tears streamed down her cheeks. "We'd had an argument. It wasn't anything big or important. Ben was always a gentle man. He didn't like arguing. He went outside to take a walk and do some errands. I wanted to tell him it was all right and to come back inside and we'd likely forget about it all by morning anyway. But I didn't. And so he left. I never saw him again. If I'd just told him to come inside, if I'd just said it was alright and all was forgiven, he never would have been there when…"

Peter felt his heart break for his aunt and he moved to hug her. "Aunt May… I'm sorry, I never knew-"

May fought back a sob. "No, you didn't… You couldn't, because I didn't tell you. I couldn't tell you. Until you told me.

"We've both carried such terrible guilt, Peter. And like me, you carried yours in silence, and that's a terrible way to live. And if we cannot forgive ourselves, perhaps… Perhaps it's time we forgave each other. Forgave each other our secrets and our indiscretions. Because I kept them too.

"I forgive you for not sharing this part of your life with me, Peter. And I forgive you for Ben, because that was never your fault. You're my nephew, Peter. And no matter what you are… I will always love you.

Peter held his aunt in his arms, and she in turn held him in hers.

"I'm sorry, Aunt May."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I know… Peter, this is… This is all just so much. It's a lot for me to take in all at once. We will finish this conversation, but, right now, I need some time to think everything over."

Peter nodded even as his heart sank a little. "I'll call you a cab."

"That's alright. This street is busy. I never have to wait."

It wasn't until a few hours passed after May's parting that Peter felt well enough to patrol that night. He didn't know what to think anymore. His entire world had flipped upside down in less than 24 hours. He needed to let off some steam. He needed to resolve something. Anything.

When it came down to a choice of facing May or the Avengers, he knew exactly what to do.

* * *

"Security breach." Tony stated as calmly as he could, given the circumstances.

Spider-Man had just slammed through one of the large windows near the couches of the main living area. He'd know where it was; he'd been there many times before.

Now he stood a few short paces away from Tony and Banner, feet planted apart and fists clenched. His lenses faced the two sole occupants of the room. Tony couldn't see Spidey's real face, but he somehow knew he was on the receiving end of the world's strongest death glare.

Spidey muttered, "You can decide you hate me and want to bring me in. Fine. But I will never stop being who I am. We both know that I can't be caught if I don't want to be."

Tony's lips pursed as he turned without a word and pulled something out of a nearby drawer before tossing it to Spider-Man.

Since Spidey didn't get a warning from his sixth sense, he caught it without hesitation and looked down to see a thick bound stack of hundred dollar bills sitting in his palm. He nearly dropped it in his surprise. It had to be tens of thousands of dollars! Does Stark just keep these all over the tower?

Tony strode forward. "I understand that you can't help it, but you don't have to put yourself in this position. No one else has to get hurt! You could bribe a hospital nurse or something."

Spidey stared incredulously at the billionaire, standing there as though he's actually sincere. On top of everything… Tony beat him up, only to feel bad about it and fund his medical care? Who does the man think he is?!

Spider-Man's hand clenched the money, fist shaking in his anger. He chucked the bills back at Tony who barely ducked in time. Peter knew he was going to regret it later. He just couldn't accept money from a man like him.

"You're a real piece of work, Stark."

Tony practically growled and Banner had to hold an arm in front of him to stop him from attacking Spider-Man right there and then.

Banner turned back to Spider-Man with a pleading look. "Spidey, why are you doing this? It has to stop."

"You don't understand. I _need_ to do this. It's everything to me. I love who I have become. It's a part of me. I can't stop, and I'm not going to let you stop me."

Spider-Man spun on his heel and dove back out the broken window before he could see the looks of horror that stretched over the two Avenger's faces.

* * *

 **Shout out to RosyThorn for the idea on the last little conversation between Banner and Spidey. Ya'll should check out her work. She's awesome.**

 **As always, I shamelessly beg for reviews.**

 **Loving the reaction! Just wish my other story got that much love.**

 **It's still a WIP, and it's my first story, so you can see my slow evolution in style over the months. But I put just as much enthusiasm in it as this one, so if you want to check it out...**

 **Anyway, love ya'll!**

 **The next (and last, this is a three shot) chapter will be out soon.**


	3. May The Best Win

"He's impossible to hit! I'm starting to think he really _does_ have eyes at the back of his head. How are we supposed to bring in a guy that can dodge everything you throw at him?"

Natasha picked at the gauntlets around her wrists as she listened to Clint rant beside her. She scrutinized the looped interaction between Tony, Bruce, and Spider-Man when the wallcrawler broke in on the flat screen.

Tony shifted feet in her peripheral. "You think I don't know that? There's got to be a reason he was always the first to yell _duck_."

"But he _has_ been hit before. Is it possible," Natasha interjected, eyes still glued to the large screen, "That Spider-Man could have heard Rogers after he left the old office?"

Tony shot the footage a calculating gaze. "Doubtful. I was going 80 percent capacity with my thrusters. The sound would have muffled Cap's footsteps no matter how good Spidey's hearing is."

Nat hummed. "Steve, what happened exactly when you hit him with your shield?"

Steve stared absentmindedly at his hands folded in his lap as he thought back. "Just as I began to make the throw, he looked back at the building he left Stark in."

"Was it a casual check, or…"

"No, it was abrupt. Like he was spooked. It was… as if he heard someone scream right behind him."

"And this happened right as you threw the shield?"

"Yes."

Natasha finally turned her focus toward Steve. "If we know that he didn't hear you, then we can only assume that the cause of his reaction was the fact that you threw the shield."

"So," Clint looked at her in disbelief, "You're saying that he's secretly a psychic."

Nat shrugged noncommittedly. "Maybe. It makes sense."

Bruce tilted his head at the screen with newfound interest. "By that theory, Spider-Man somehow knows when something bad is going to happen, but he just can't tell what it is. That's why he looked back at Stark. Because he didn't know anyone else was there."

Tony tapped his fingers on his folded arms. "I'll have a look at past footage of those few times he was hit during a fight. See if it supports your theory. If everything matches up, this could be all we need to catch him off guard."

Steve nodded. "We'll need to come up with a plan that'll work under those parameters."

"Spider-Man will be fully healed by now," Bruce sighed, "It's been two days since he was hit. His advanced healing will have made him good as new. We can't rely on him being weaker than normal."

"Don't worry, green bean," Tony ruffled Bruce's hair, much to the latter's chagrin, "We don't need him at his worst to take him down."

"Tell that to all my wasted arrows." Clint muttered.

* * *

Spider-Man sighed from his high vantage point as he watched what he knew was going to be an amazing sunset. It would be a good distraction after –

No, don't think about that.

Being a Saturday, he had been fighting crime almost nonstop all day long. He needed a moment to sit and do his own version of smelling the roses.

So here he sat with a bag of takeout on top of the Daily Bugle waiting for the sun to set. He had no intention of cleaning up after himself before he left. He knew JJJ probably wouldn't be the one to pick it up. But he still hoped the Hitler wannabe would get word of a bunch of Fatburger trash found on the roof.

Peter smirked into his half eaten burger. He could imagine the next morning's headline: Spider Menace Attempts to Deface our Reputable News. The vigilante claims we are "garbage" and a "nothing burger."

The image had him giggling with mirth. Maybe he should stop here more often. It really helped him forget for a moment about –

No, stop thinking about her.

He was only a couple bites away from finishing his much deserved meal when a low hum of his Spidey sense made him freeze, burger inches from his mouth. He groaned, having already made an educated guess what caused it to go off.

It was the neutral sort of buzzing. The kind that meant he wasn't in impending danger, but something he still _perceived_ as dangerous.

Spider-Man was being watched.

Again.

Three guesses who it is.

Spidey lowered his burger to its wrapper at a sloth-like pace before pulling his mask fully on. He studied the distance of the sun to the horizon and estimated that he had ten minutes.

He felt the tingling at the base of his skull pick up a hair when he stood and watched the traffic below. Peter heard agitated whispers to his left. He recognized Clint's voice but couldn't make out what the archer was saying.

Spider-Man wasn't curious enough to ask.

He dove, just barely dodging two arrows mid-air as he fell.

He heard Ironman approach on his right, so he aimed his webshooters toward a skyscraper in the opposite direction. He knew he was in trouble now. Last time he was lucky, he took Ironman by surprise, and it was dark.

Ironman shot at him wildly, blasting any building unfortunate enough to be near Spider-Man's path. Hawkeye used freaking _exploding arrows_ from his perch. His aim uncharacteristically relatable to a storm trooper.

Spidey shrieked at the absurdity of the destruction as he swung as fast as basic physics would allow. He's in for it now. Screw his identity! THEY WANT HIM DEAD!

He shot web after web like mad, only just fast enough to keep ahead of Ironman. He was just about to cross a street when Captain America and Black Widow ran at him from the left side of the intersection and he had to swing jarringly to the right to avoid one of Widow's stingers.

His already achingly loud spider sense blared to new heights. Spider-Man turned mid-swing only to watch helplessly as an arrow shot through his web.

He flailed, falling toward the ground as he aimed a webshooter to catch himself. The relentless pounding in his skull wasn't helping. Yes, he knows he's about to go splat.

An invisible force slammed into his chest.

Peter screamed as some sort of rocket appeared out of nowhere and came apart on impact and wrapped him in what he could only describe as some sort of bear hug. Before he could even process what was happening and fight it, the thick metal limbs forced his hands behind his back and bound his knees together.

In the next moment, he hit the pavement at a roll. Spidey shut his eyes and instinctively went limp as he barreled a dozen yards before he screeched to a stop.

He lay there, panting, shaking, and stomach in his throat while the rest of the Avengers caught up to him. Ironman pounced, throwing his weight on Spider-Man and shoving the Webhead's face into the ground.

Peter attempted to swallow his sheer terror, trying in vain to find something to grip with his feet. "H-How?"

The metal encased hands shifted to a firmer position on his back. "Cloaking technology, genius. What? You think you're the only one who can take people by surprise?"

Peter didn't grace that with an answer, instead shaking with exertion as he pulled at the cuffs with all his might.

Steve huffed. "Are you certain that he can't get out of those, Tony?"

"Don't worry, Capsicle. This is two-inch-thick titanium gold alloy; the same stuff my earliest suits were made out of. He's not going anywhere."

Spidey grunted in his struggles, barely able to wriggle from side to side with the oversized shackles holding him down. Despite everything, only one thought filled his mind.

He never got to watch that sunset.

* * *

May berated herself again for how long it took for her to put Spider-Man and Peter in the same light. Spider-Man had always been _some guy_ out there fighting crime. Peter was practically her adopted son, and she had always seen him as timid and fragile. She tried to stick her nephew's face on a guy in spandex who jumps off skyscrapers, bashes in robots, and uses… - Oh, what do they call it? - Dad jokes?

Ok, that last one's got Peter written all over it.

Still, the very idea turned her whole world upside-down.

She felt foolish. How many times had her boy come home with a limp or a bruise and blamed it on tripping or bumping into something?

She should have seen it. She should have connected the dots. A small part of her knew it was silly to expect herself to figure out that her nephew was Spider-Man of all people. But a bigger part of her just wished that she had known so that she could have helped him; wished she could have been there for him.

Which was why she was so mad at herself for taking so long to come to terms with reality and do her job as Peter's guardian: be there for him. Sure, May was still a bit irked that Peter never came clean with her. But she blamed herself too. She remembered a time when she openly opposed Spider-Man in front of Peter.

Her opinions changed over time, of course. But she doubted that she had put Peter at ease when the Daily Bugle began to publish stories on the "Web Menace."

She supposed she learned her lesson about using just one source of news.

So here she walked to Peter's apartment. Cabs were so expensive and, honestly, she really needed the walk to clear her head for when she would see Peter again. She didn't want to make him feel any guiltier than she knew he already was.

He'd tried to call her twice, and left very sincere messages, but she just wasn't ready to talk to him yet. She knew the poor boy must be a nervous wreck by now.

Speaking of a wreck, she noticed a cordoned off area over the street ahead of her. There were orange cones and a couple police cruisers blocking off the narrow road. She saw the cops redirecting everyone on the sidewalk back to where they'd come. A small group of people had settled on her side of the barricade, peering over one another to get a glimpse of the other side.

May was deciding on an alternate route when she overheard someone say, "Bout time the Avengers took down that menace."

She froze, heart in her throat, as her blood went cold.

Peter.

Without hesitation, she swerved down an ally and headed straight past the temporary blockade from behind the buildings. She thanked her lucky stars that it wasn't a dead end as she picked up her pace, fearing the worst.

When she was certain that she was far enough, she emerged from another ally and stiffened at the sight before her. There was rubble all over the street. Windows and walls on nearly every building had been smashed in. There were blast marks everywhere. The sign of a local soup restaurant hung by a single hinge.

May felt her heart race and she ran before she could even think.

She almost missed them.

A small distance down a crossroad, there they stood, the Avengers. Most of their backs were turned to her. They were all looking down at something Ironman was hunched over.

As May neared, she immediately recognized the squirming red and blue suit sprawled on the street.

Not Peter.

May gripped her purse tighter.

Never Peter.

Filled with righteous fury, she marched up behind the man with a plan and swung her purse full force at the back of his head.

Caught entirely by surprise, Steve stumbled forward a couple steps. He spun around, fully expecting to see Spider-Man's accomplice, only to find a seething elderly woman.

"What do you think you're doing?" She growled, eyes boring into his.

Steve was taken aback. "Ma'am, this is a dangerous area. You need to-"

"I'm doing _exactly_ what I need to do! You let Spider-Man go! Right now!"

Steve gave her a pained look. "Spider-Man isn't the kind of person you think he is. You can't be here. I can call you an escort if you'd li-"

The sound of a slap caught everyone else on the street's attention.

May huffed at all the baffled eyes that swerved in her direction. Only one person here mattered to her, she just couldn't see _his_ eyes. She didn't doubt she had his full attention though. His masked face craned at her from his awkward position.

May didn't even regard Steve as she spoke, entirely focused on her beloved nephew. "I know _exactly_ what kind of person Spider-Man is. He is not a criminal. He is a hero. Now let him go."

She could only hope that Peter knew this meant she was ready to accept all of him, that this didn't change how much she loved him. This wasn't how she wanted to say it, but she'd be damned if she let him get carted away because she got cold feet.

Stark huffed. "Look lady, this guy killed seven people over the last month. We can't just let him go."

Spider-Man jerked to attention. "I did _what_?!"

"Don't play stupid with me now!" Stark growled as he pulled Spidey up to stand, shoving a finger at the kid's face, "You killed and drank the blood of seven people! You even said you _love_ doing it! Playing innocent now isn't going to get you anywhere!"

Spider-Man was uncharacteristically still and silent for several long seconds.

"Wha-" Spidey visibly gagged, "I would never… _That's_ what this has all been about?!"

May darted forward and gripped Spider-Man's arm while Steve was distracted. She looked each of the Avengers in the eye. "What the hell is wrong with you people? Spider-Man would never do that."

"Tony," Natasha crossed her arms as she pierced the man with a look, "What _exactly_ did you and Spider-Man say that first night?"

Stark's head visor was still down, so no one saw him open his mouth only to close it again with a snap as it began to dawn on him just what sort of situation they could be in.

Spidey interrupted his musings. "I don't know why you thought I was behind something like that, but I can promise you that I've never killed _anyone_ before. Let alone…" He shivered and left the rest of that sentence to hang.

Natasha scrutinized the webhead with careful consideration. "He doesn't show any outward signs of deception, but it's difficult to tell with the suit."

"We need to head back to the tower," Steve said, warily keeping his distance from May, "Give him an examination at least."

Spidey stiffened. "I won't-"

"Nothing invasive, Spider-Man," Steve assured, "If we can prove your innocence, you'll never have to take your mask off."

Spider-Man huffed. If he could fold his arms, he would. "Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

"You're not officially _guilty_ ," Clint cheerfully pointed out, "You're just being _detained_ until proven innocent."

Spidey fixed him with a flat look, not that the archer could see it. "I fail to see the difference."

* * *

May refused to leave Spider-Man's side. Since Spidey wasn't opposed to her coming along, to the bafflement of the Avengers, they begrudgingly waited for Happy to pick them all up in one of Tony's cars.

After they arrived in Tony's personal lab, the task was pretty straightforward. Tony and Bruce, who arrived moments after the rest did, got to work. They did anything they could think of that they could without removing the mask or Spidey's body bind. First they took a blood sample and checked for heavy iron. Then they had Jarvis scan his stomach.

Spider-Man turned at the sound of laughter to see Pepper and May standing together at a corner in deep conversation. Pepper was wiping at her eyes with a grin plastered over her face in reaction to something May must have said. May beamed triumphantly back at the businesswoman.

Huh, who knew they'd get along so well?

Bruce scraped for samples underneath his fingernails after removing one of Spidey's gloves. Tony lifted Spider-Man's mask up to his nose and examined his teeth. Tony was getting ready to shove a tube down Spider-Man's throat when Clint and Steve held him back.

"That's enough," Steve grumbled, "I said nothing invasive. And I think we've more than proven Spider-Man's innocence."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, we messed up, man. Just accept it."

Tony slowly lowered the tube before he sighed. "Yeah…" He turned to Spider-Man, "God, Webhead. How did it get this far?"

Spidey shrugged awkwardly, just relieved he was saved from _that_ torture.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jarvis, release Spider-Man. Code: Count Drac-Man."

Peter gaped while his shackles fell off. "I'm not even going to ask."

Tony nodded. "This place is still safe for you. You know that, right?"

Peter rubbed his sore wrists absentmindedly. "I'll remember that."

May grasped Spidey's arm like it was her ticket to heaven before they left the tower together.

Tony gave Steve a sly look. "Betcha the reason she's glued to him is because the Webhead helped her cross the street."

Steve rolled his eyes and mumbled something about there being hardly any gentlemen left nowadays.

* * *

"You know," May sighed as she and her newly civilian dressed nephew trod home. "I always knew there was something you were hiding."

Peter rose a questioning eyebrow at her. "Oh?"

"Well, ever since you were a teenager, you were quiet, sensitive, didn't like sports, and were awkward around girls. Then you started disappearing at night and were so adamant about not letting me do your laundry… to tell you the truth, for a while I thought you might be gay. Which I was prepared to accept either way, because you were still you.

"I mean, I knew _something_ was in the closet. Who knew it'd be a costume?"

Peter blushed and laughed. He hadn't been entirely sure if she really had accepted him or not. May making jokes was a very good sign. The relief that he didn't have to lie to her anymore and that she still loved him felt so liberating that he couldn't find it in himself to stop laughing.

He stopped walking and hugged her as tight as he dared, shoulders still shaking from low giggles as he fought off tears of joy. He wanted to swing and scream from the rooftops. He wanted to take her with him. He wanted to show her his world.

But he knew he couldn't. It was late, and as much as May tried to hide it, Peter knew she was exhausted. So he settled for the warmest hug he could give. They stayed that way for a while, just standing on the sidewalk enveloping each other in a tight embrace, neither in a hurry to get home.

Peter would have been content to stay there all night.

That is, until a shrill scream cut through the chilly night air.

Peter immediately released his aunt. "I… I have to go. But I don't want to leave you out here alone at this time of night."

May gazed up at him, eyes on the brink of overflowing with tears. "I…" She sighed, cutting herself off. "Do what you have to do. I can wait over there." She indicated toward a small bakery that was still open despite the late hour.

Peter assured that she was safe inside before he vaulted up a nearby wall away from prying eyes. He changed as quickly as he could manage before darting off in the direction of the scream.

May wasn't worried when five minutes had passed. She wasn't worried when ten minutes had passed. She _definitely_ wasn't worried when fifteen minutes had passed.

Peter can handle himself.

Peter can _absolutely_ handle himself.

Peter… May shook her head, pulled out her phone, and made a call.

* * *

Peter ran fruitlessly for who knew how long.

He'd found the victim easily enough. It was a middle-aged man, who'd managed to pepper spray his attacker, which was the only reason he was still alive by the time Spider-Man arrived. The man said it was too fast and dark to have made out any details though.

After that, Spidey ran a perimeter, getting wider and wider the more he circled it. But he couldn't find anything! His spider sense didn't do so much as tickle.

He was about ready to call it quits when he heard Ironman's repulsors headed his way. Peter stayed and waited, silently praying that the billionaire didn't just up and change his mind about Spider-Man or something.

The moment Ironman landed, Spidey asked, "What are you-"

"The old lady called."

Wait. "Old…?"

Stark sauntered forward. "The old lady you were with? May? Pepper gave May her personal number. She must have made quite the impression. Anyway, she told pepper that you left her in a bakery and haven't been back in a while. What's going on?"

"A man was attacked about a mile from here. I've been trying to hunt down the assaulter, but even though he's just some guy…"

"Nothing?"

"Zilch."

Stark hummed thoughtfully. "Alright, let's head back to the attack site. Maybe we'll find something."

Peter led the way. He hopped down the alleyway less than a minute later. Stark hovered down to join him before turning on his bright lights. They both let out a gasp.

There, clear as day, were deep grooves and scratches from what could have only been claw marks.

"Correction," Spidey breathed, "Not just _some guy_."

"Yeah," Stark growled, "Your 'not just some guy' is the one behind the murders."

Peter froze, head slowly turning to face Ironman. "You mean…"

Tony grit his teeth. "Yeah. We're gonna find that son of a bitch. Tonight."

Stark had Jarvis use the limits of his suit's scanners to find anything like a malformed human. After coasting the area for a minute, he got a hit. By the time they'd arrived outside the old storage unit where Tony's suit claimed the criminal was lurking, the rest of the Avengers had caught up with them.

Tony counted to three with his fingers before he blasted the lock and the team swarmed inside. Stark's suit lit the barren place up while Peter pivoted desperately.

From a glance it looked like a ridiculously large bat. That is, until Pete looked past the massive wings and saw the man in ragged clothing they were attached to. His eyes were twice in size and he had cone shaped ears that swiveled from side to side, not to mention the enormous claws on his feet and… thumb appendages? But aside from all that, it was definitely a man/bat hybrid.

Spidey gawked at the monstrosity before them. "I've been set up… by Batman."

Batman hissed at him from his crouched position.

Tony groaned loudly. "I've been outsmarted by some freakish version of a fictional character."

Spider-Man dove at the creature. Batman let out a high pitched shriek as he pumped his wings furiously. Everyone had thought that they'd blocked off the exit. No one expected a hole in the ceiling. Batman ascended up and out of the shed before the rest could act.

"It's getting away!" Clint cried.

Stark huffed at Clint. "I still have its location."

"And I put a tracer on it." Spider-Man crossed his arms to keep his frustration from making his hands shake. That… thing… was responsible for a whole lot of his pain. It's killed seven, almost eight people. And it got away.

"Great!" Clint cried. "So, where's your locator? You have it on you, or is it one of the sort where the location is sent to your computer?"

Spidey started to tap his foot absentmindedly. "Uh… the tracker emits a frequency. I don't need a locator. I can find it."

Clint looked at Spider-Man as though the webcrawler sprouted a second head. "You mean like a dog whistle?"

Peter scowled distastefully behind the mask. "Sort of." He never told them about his spider sense and he certainly wasn't comfortable enough to elaborate.

"It's," Stark interrupted, "It's headed for Oscorp."

Everyone held their breath.

"Correction," Stark amended, "It's now _inside_ Oscorp tower."

"Great," Spider-Man huffed, already walking out the door, "Let's go."

Natasha grabbed him by the shoulder. "Hold it, we can't just storm Oscorp. This just became a legal matter."

Spidey almost pulled away anyway until Tony butt in. "Webs, It's late. Let me do some digging. We'll sort this out tomorrow. Promise."

Spidey stared at the floor, shoulders hunched.

"It'll still be there."

Spider-Man slowly and arduously unclenched his fists. "Fine."

* * *

The next morning – well, more like at noon – Peter woke up and promptly swung back to the tower.

He stood with the others as Stark gave them the basics behind what he'd found.

Apparently Norman Osborn had ordered his scientists to create a human – bat hybrid. The guy never specified what it was for, though he logged it in as a spider hunter.

The scientists knew about Osborn's flair for the dramatic. So, naturally, they chose the vampire bat. Osborn had the hybrid released twice a week in the hopes that its instincts would have it target the largest "bug" in the city.

But Spider-Man isn't a bug. If anything, he's an arachnid. And bats are killed when they accidentally fly into a web. It only made sense that the hybrid would avoid the wallcrawler.

And even if Spider-Man _were_ a bug, vampire bats don't eat bugs.

So, essentially, Osborn's project was doing the exact opposite of what he wanted.

"Why would he even do that?" Clint shook his head. "We all know how proud the guy is. He'd want to be the one to take Spidey down. He'd want to be the one to remove the mask."

Spider-Man shook his head. "Norman just wanted to take the easy route, I guess."

"So," Tony drawled. "Now that we're on the subject-"

"I'm not taking my mask off, Stark."

"… It was worth a shot."

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

Peter swallowed as he straightened his tie for the eighth time in the last ten minutes.

The skyscraper loomed over him in all its glory, both awe inspiring and daunting. May had insisted that he come here. She wouldn't listen whenever Peter tried to talk her out of it. Once May decides something, you'd have to move mountains to change her mind.

If May tells you to apply to work at Stark industries, you'd better listen.

The application process was simple enough. Just email a resume, cover letter, and a blueprint on his latest invention. Peter was asked to come in for an interview a week later. Surprisingly enough, it hardly had anything to do with answering questions in an office. Peter was led into a small laboratory filled with all sorts of materials with limitless possibilities.

He was simply told to make something and that he could stay as long as he needed so long as he was making progress. The nerves held Peter stationary as he sat and stared at everything in front of him for the first 40 minutes. Then, finally, he remembered one of his dream inventions and got to work.

A grand total of six hours later, during which someone brought him lunch, Peter looked up at the camera of the lab and asked Jarvis to bring the head scientist in.

He proudly demonstrated the abilities of the Anti-Electro Netting, a net that Electro wouldn't be able to damage. He would be rendered helpless, and his own electric current would cause a chemical reaction that should, in theory, even cure him.

The head scientist was clearly impressed. Pete was sent home with a thick packet to read while The company needed three days to do a thorough background check.

That was how Peter came to stand in front of the tower with a tie that was somehow both too loose and too tight. He couldn't believe what was happening, what was going to happen. The packet specified that he had been one of the few chosen to freely invent, rather than follow given blueprints. One of the many benefits were that Peter would be given his own lab. Another, the work hours. Peter could come and go as he pleased and it wouldn't negatively impact his pay. Stark industries cared about both potential and results. Time spent was of little consequence.

Peter smiled at his previous stubbornness. He'd thought being a photographer was the only job he could manage alongside his sporadic web-slinging lifestyle. Boy, was he wrong. He knew this made him owe May so much more that he already did. He took his first step inside as an official employee.

One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind? He shook his head, grinning despite himself. He knew the first three months were more of a trial period where he'd be an assistant of one of the higher technicians before he'd be given his own work space. But he made it this far. He wouldn't fail now.

Before he could board the elevator, a very familiar face sauntered off the private one. Tony Stark paused the moment he saw Peter.

"Zoey?" He asked, turning to the receptionist. "Why is there a kid in my tower?"

She smirked. "You remember the net that immobilized Electro?" She gestured pointedly by raising her eyebrows at Peter.

Tony swerved to analyze Peter again. "Potter?"

Peter sputtered. He didn't even know his net had been used. Though, that would explain the 'spam' email asking for an interview the other day. "Uh… Parker."

"Right. So you're the new hire with 'a lot of promise'? Dawson had nothing but good things to say about you."

Peter rubbed his hands anxiously. "Really? That's uh… That's… good?"

Tony stared at Peter a little more intently. "Your voice is familiar. Have we met before?"

"Wha- no! No… No, we definitely haven't… met before."

Tony smirked. "Ease up, kid. You'll be looking my age in a year with those nerves."

"Yes, sir."

"And don't wear a suit in a lab! You'll waste all the fifty bucks that thing is worth."

Peter shrank a little. "Yes, sir."

"And quit calling me sir."

"Yes, s-… Mister Stark."

Tony groaned loudly as he turned around and marched through a side door.

Zoey sent Peter a sly grin. "I think he likes you."

* * *

 **That's it! Thanks for taking time out of your day to read my secret hobby. I always read my reviews many times over, and would love it if you told me about your impressions. They light up my day!**

 **This is my longest chapter ever! Over 5,300 words, more than double my last record. (Shut up, it's long for me.)**

 **SOOOOOOOooooo many people keep asking me if I'll be continuing this. The answer is no. Sorry! I wanted to add a new twist into the mix, and going any further would be writing what has already been written time and time again. But, I'll tell you what. ANYONE can make a sequel if they want. You even have my full permission to copy the entire Epilogue word for word. I just have a couple conditions.**

 **-First, you must acknowledge that it is a sequel to this work. (clarify my name and the title)**  
 **-Second, you must say that the epilogue (or chapter 1, however you use it) was written by me.**  
 **-Third, you must tell me when you have made your first post under the comments and give a link if it is not on this website.**

 **In return, I will compile a list of anyone who writes a sequel here. \/ Fair?**

 **If you want to see more of my stuff, I have a much longer Danny Phantom/Avengers crossover. I like to take popular plots in stories and give them a twist with a healthy dose of humor, and Operation: Infiltrate is no exception.**

 **Anyway, have a fantastic day! Hopefully you're not being hunted down as a prime suspect for murder. Remember, it could always be worse! Catch ya later!**


	4. 3 Years Later

**So... you remember that time I said I was done? No more chapters? Guess I lied. Had another idea, and rolled with it. Hope you like it. I was supposed to be cleaning.**

* * *

Tony knew that Peter was weird.

Well, that wasn't to say that he himself wasn't weird. And when most of your closest friends are a green rage monster, a spy, an alien/god, a sorcerer, a spandex wearing parkour enthusiast, or a hundred-year-old walking American flag, weird becomes the normal.

But Peter wasn't any of those things. Peter was a scientist and a mechanic. A genius of many talents. That, Tony figured, was the sort of cocktail that would inevitably come with quirks. But by quirks, Tony meant something like eating the same sundae every night, OCD, or counting backwards as he worked. Hell, Peter could have decided to do his thing in his underwear and Tony would've barely blinked. But Peter didn't just have genius quirks, Peter was _weird_.

Take last year for example. Tony had meandered into Peter's lab to get a second opinion on a project and what he saw just about gave him a heart attack. Apparently Peter had the _brilliant_ idea to glue his own feet to the ceiling. It took the next half hour to cut him down, and another hour of soaking the kid's feet, along with the chunks of ceiling panels, in a solution before Peter's feet were freed.

Peter kept insisting that he thought the change of perspective would help him think better. Tony told him he was an idiot. The billionaire still had no idea how Peter managed to get himself in that position.

Or last week, when Tony caught Peter staring at a fly in the kitchen. Tony hadn't thought it possible, but Peter never lost sight of it. Flies are really fast and small. It shouldn't be possible to follow it with your eyes for as long as Peter was.

And what about last month, when Tony and Peter were discussing the pros and cons of human cloning? Out of nowhere, Peter gasped, eyes wide, and went stiff as a board. When Tony asked what that was about, the kid started spouting nonsense about realizing he left the oven on. Jarvis later informed Tony that it was in that very moment that a minor earthquake had passed them. The wave was so small that it shouldn't have been possible to even feel it, much less on a skyscraper.

Tony was starting to think Peter was secretly a mutant. And taking the fly incident into account, maybe frog based? Whatever was going on with Peter, Tony made it his mission to find out.

At first, he tried placing cameras around his apartment. But Peter didn't do anything that gave himself away. If anything, Peter looked a bit wary, as if he knew he was being watched. Tony gave that idea up after a month.

That was when the billionaire decided to take a more direct approach. Getting a viable DNA sample was easy. The tower was a second home to Peter after all. It didn't take long for Tony to figure out that Peter wasn't entirely human. About 95% was human, the rest he couldn't identify. Without another strand of DNA to compare it to, Tony had no way of knowing what it was. He couldn't just run a search, that sort of technology didn't exist.

He considered writing software into his scanners that would identify if Peter had the X gene, but figured there'd be no harm in making a call first.

He asked Professor Xavier, point blank, if Peter was a mutant. Xavier simply laughed and assured Tony that the kid wasn't a mutant. Tony hung up with a smirk on his face.

Xavier hadn't bothered to ask Tony who Peter was.

Meaning Xavier already knew who Peter was.

Meaning Peter was a mutant.

At first Tony wondered why Peter hadn't come clean with him, but after a fair bit of thought he figured that mutants don't exactly have the best reputation and press. And although Stark Industries had donated a few million to various mutant charities, Tony himself hadn't been particularly public about his support for mutants.

He decided to fix that. If Peter was uncomfortable about sharing his secret, then Stark was going to change his mind.

Phase 1: Tony started a conversation up with Peter about mutants and all that they could offer the world. After about half an hour he realized that all Peter had been saying for the past ten minutes was "uh-huh" and hadn't looked up from the chemistry set up he'd been dutifully maintaining. Tony scowled, unbeknownst to Peter.

Phase 2: Stark set up a press conference in which he publicly donated ten million toward Professor Xavier's school for gifted youngsters. He even read a speech Pepper wrote for him about his support for the misunderstood group of people.

The press went wild.

The people went wild.

Social media went wild.

Peter blinked, said that's great, and went right back to calibrating the bionic leg he was working on. Tony pouted from behind his back.

Phase 3: Tony made an effort to go out of his way to ask Peter how his day was, and that if he _ever_ needed someone to talk to, Tony would be there. Finally, Tony saw the reaction he was looking for. Every time the topic was brought up, Peter would curl into himself a little more. He looked more and more guilty every time Tony reached out to him.

After Tony buttered him up for a couple weeks, Peter seemed to crack just a little bit.

"Why did you go public?"

Tony stopped what he was doing, a little confused by the question. "What?"

Peter was dutifully avoiding his gaze. "When you said you were Ironman, what made you decide to do it?"

"Uh…" Tony had to take a second to figure out how best to answer. This was the most progress he'd made in months, and he didn't want to mess it up. "I didn't want to hide, I guess. Little known fact, but a government agency was trying to have me sweep the whole thing under the rug. Bending to the will of someone else so soon after, you know, Afghanistan… it didn't sit right with me."

"Oh," Peter hurriedly nodded in understanding, "That makes sense. But… do you ever regret it? I mean, doesn't people knowing who you are put a target on your back and everyone who knows you?"

"Are you worried that someone is going to target you?"

"N-no! Not at all, I just mean…" Peter started to fidget with his shirt.

Tony looked at Peter with a new growing sense of understanding. "I still don't regret it. If I know who my friends are, and my friends know who I am, I think it makes it a lot easier to trust and look out for each other." Tony paused to smirk at Peter, who was too deep in thought to notice. "Of course, it doesn't hurt that most of my friends can hold their own when the going gets tough."

Peter grew quiet after that. The rest of the afternoon was spent in silence.

Phase ∞: A week after Tony and Peter's heart to heart, Spider-Man swung right onto the top of the tower and asked Jarvis to let him in. When Tony was notified, he didn't know what to think. Spider-Man had never just shown up uninvited before, and in the middle of the day no less. Well, except that one time. The one with the window… but in hindsight, it was kind of warranted.

But that was a long time ago and entirely forgotten! Well, mostly. Anyway, back to the present. Tony told Jarvis to let the webhead in and took an elevator up to meet with him.

The moment Tony's eyes connected with Spidey's lenses, Spider-Man ripped his mask off. Tony saw the face of Peter and all he could do was gape. Puzzle pieces started slamming into place in rapid succession in Tony's mind. Every time a question would come up, he'd start to try to phrase it aloud before another puzzle piece would slam into place and shut off that train of thought.

On the outside, Peter shifted from foot to foot and watched in terrified fascination as Tony stood there, mouth opening and closing and making a faint choking sound.

Tony had known both Peter and Spider-Man for years now. There wasn't really all that much he could ask that he didn't already know.

But wait, Spider-Man's an enhanced from a lab accident! He can't be Peter, because Peter's a mutant-

…

Tony face-palmed.


End file.
